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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278529">what now?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DILFOYLE/pseuds/DILFOYLE'>DILFOYLE</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Silicon Valley (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:01:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DILFOYLE/pseuds/DILFOYLE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, this is a little something about what could have happened after the roof scene in Exit Event (series finale).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dinesh Chugtai/Bertram Gilfoyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what now?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! This is not the first time I've wrote a fic but it IS the first time I've uploaded it publicly. It's probably terrible but I had an idea and went with it. If people like it, maybe I'll add more. Anyway, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So...I guess that’s it.” Richard sighed, stating the obvious for probably the fifth time that evening. No one said anything though. There wasn’t really anything else to say. Pied Piper had failed.</p><p>It had been a long six years and the painful ache they all felt at this very moment stuck in the surrounding air, not ready to dull down any time soon. After another uncomfortable five minutes, Monica spoke up.</p><p>“I think...I think I’m going to leave. I’ll see you guys again tomorrow I guess.” It was disarming seeing Monica, the Monica Hall, this uncertain. Richard shifted awkwardly as she spoke and cleared his throat, making an unusually quick decision.</p><p>“Yeah. Um...I’ll probably join you. I have press to deal with in the morning and I don’t know if I can handle them on any less sleep than I’ve had already.”</p><p>They both stood up from their end of the couch, Jared picking up both their bags and handing them to them. Gilfoyle sat as he had for the past three hours, staring into the distance, occasionally taking a sip from the bottle of Russ’ handmade tequila.</p><p>It was probably not his first.</p><p>Dinesh on the other hand, seemed to be interested in a tiny nick on the back of his phone and continued scratching it gently with his thumb. His eyes were fixated there and he hadn’t said anything for a long time.</p><p>Jared glanced between them with his usual sad doe-eyed look but his eyes eventually travelled back to Richard.</p><p>“I’m coming too. You guys want me to drive?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Richard’s one-word response was all he needed. He abruptly stood up from his chair and began following the others towards the roof doors. Before going through them, he looked back at the remaining boys. Jared was unsure he could say anything that could improve their moods but it was Jared, he was going to try anyway.</p><p>“It won’t always feel like this, you know?” He kind of had to raise his voice a little as the doors were quite far away. “We should be proud of what we achieved. I know it wasn’t what we wanted but I wouldn’t take any of it back. Especially knowing you guys...I-I have to go now but...I love you. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>Without waiting for a response, or maybe it was because he knew he probably wouldn’t get one, Jared left. Dinesh and Gilfoyle could hear him trying to catch up with the others before his footsteps faded down the stairs and into the distance.</p><p>They continued sitting and staring in their current positions as Jared’s “I love you.” hung around them awkwardly. Eventually, Dinesh threw his phone down on the couch and ran to the roofs edge. He flung the top half of his body over the railing and breathed in the cool evening air, closing his eyes. He could feel Gilfoyle’s glance shift for the first time in hours.</p><p>“Shut up. I know what you’re going to say.”</p><p>Gilfoyle took another sip from the bottle before speaking.</p><p>“Hmm...and what’s that?”</p><p>"Oh poor little Dinesh can’t control his emotions. I know I’m sensitive you don’t have to point it out, okay? I’m fucking tired, man.”</p><p>Dinesh gripped onto the railings and hauled himself back up. He opened his eyes onto the skyline. The view was undeniably stunning, especially now that it was dark enough to see the lights through people’s large apartment windows.</p><p>Dinesh was tired. Absolutely nothing had worked out. He had just wasted six years on this shit. What the hell was he supposed to do now?</p><p>“You do know we’re all in the same position?”</p><p>The last thing he wanted right now was Gilfoyle’s snarky comebacks feeding off his selfishness. Dinesh exhaled and turned around, expecting to see a smirk on that annoying face of his.</p><p>“I know. I’m not a fucking...idiot. I’m allowed to feel sad about this.”</p><p>“I never said you weren’t.”</p><p>It made Dinesh indescribably angry that Gilfoyle didn’t seem to care that they had just lost almost everything. He was filled with so much rage it was getting harder to contain it.</p><p>Maybe he should have left with the others.</p><p>Fuck it.</p><p>“Do you seriously not care at all?”</p><p>Gilfoyle placed the bottle down slowly onto the floor and began walking over to the railings where Dinesh still stood. Dinesh’s eyes flickered so fast it was as if he was taking a constant stream of photos.</p><p>“Of course, I do. I just don’t see any point getting worked up over this. We’ll find a new job, Dinesh.”</p><p>As always, he spoke in short, confident sentences and despite the amount of alcohol he had seemingly consumed, he didn’t slur once.</p><p>“Yeah but...I wanted to work together. With all of you. On something we’re passionate about. How am I ever supposed to get another job like Pied Piper? I-I loved it here.” His voice raised a few octaves higher as he spoke, breaking a little at the end.</p><p>“I don’t expect you to understand. I doubt you’ve ever cared about anything...or anyone...ever. I mean, you dumped Tara for no reason. She probably got bored of you anyway.”</p><p>Now his eyes started to itch and he was suddenly very aware of how close he and Gilfoyle were standing. Maybe he’d gone a little too far. Whatever. He turned away and noticed a discarded baseball bat lying on the floor. Not questioning how it had got there, he walked over and swiftly picked it up with one hand.</p><p>He hit his own glass off the table in one swing.</p><p>
  <em>Wow.</em>
</p><p>Destruction felt good.</p><p>Well. This kind anyway.</p><p>Dinesh began hitting more things. Plant pots, empty beer bottles, even an old fax machine. With each swing he felt a release of energy.</p><p>Gilfoyle had been watching intensely with his arms folded, clearly surprised by this sudden change of events. He had seen Dinesh angry before, but never like this. He was only really half glad he’d moved on from screaming at him. However, as Dinesh began swinging at the glass on the sides of the railings his sobriety came back a little.</p><p>“Dinesh, stop! Do you know how much shit we are going to get into if you break those?”</p><p>Dinesh ignored him and continued hitting the glass panes with force.</p><p>Gilfoyle swore sharply under his breath. He wasn’t paid enough for this shit. And well, not at all anymore.</p><p>By the time he had walked over to where Dinesh was standing, Dinesh had already given up with the panes and was now lining up fresh, unopened bottles of Tres Comas.</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em> are you doing now? Just give me the bat before you hurt yourself.”</p><p>He reached out in front of him but Dinesh took no notice.</p><p>He wanted to be awkward? Fine.</p><p>Gilfoyle moved behind Dinesh, placing both hands on top of his. Dinesh flinched at the sudden skin on skin contact even though he knew it was just so Gilfoyle could pull his hands off the bat.</p><p>“GET OFF!” Dinesh yelled. He had it under control. He was fine.</p><p>Deciding to use the weight of Gilfoyle behind him to his advantage, he swung at the first full bottle. He genuinely did not care anymore and it felt great. He had nothing to lose.</p><p>The expensive liquid seeped into the wooden floorboards.</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>Dinesh immediately dropped the bat and stepped backward onto Gilfoyle’s boots. Both of them fell into the river of broken glass. It crunched underneath their hands as they attempted to stand up. Dinesh decided against it, gently touching his cheek just underneath his eye. His vision blurred as if his body were telling him to sleep. </p><p>“Okay...what the actual fuck was that?” Gilfoyle brushed his clothes down with his bloody hands. The cuts weren’t that deep; he could fix them up himself. “I know you’re upset but this is fucking in-” </p><p>“A piece of glass flew into my cheek.” Dinesh interrupted quietly, pulling his hand away from his face. The cut was bad. The shard must have fallen out and blood was pouring out of it at an alarming rate. Gilfoyle’s whole facial expression changed as he saw it. </p><p>“Oh shit. Dinesh, you need to get up.” </p><p>Dinesh didn’t argue, slowly standing up in the mess he had just created. Gilfoyle grabbed his wrist instantly and pulled him towards the couch. Shit. He didn’t know the first thing about First Aid. His mind raced back to a distant memory of accidentally watching some medical type reality show. Dinesh unironically loved that shit. Pressure. Of course. </p><p>Yanking his flannel shirt off, he held it up to Dinesh’s cheek. He was surprisingly delicate but there seemed to be enough pressure behind it to stop the bleeding momentarily.  </p><p>“Maybe you should lie down.” </p><p>“Why do you care?” </p><p>“Do you want me to just leave you here, bleeding out? Because I will.” </p><p>Dinesh obeyed. It felt better lying down anyway. </p><p>As he lay there, Dinesh closed his eyes for comfort. Gilfoyle knelt on the floor beside him and continued holding the flannel to his cheek. Just as his adrenaline began to leave his body, tiny droplets of salty water appeared at the edges of Dinesh’s eyes. </p><p>Please no. </p><p>Not now. </p><p>Every time Dinesh had cried since the day they met, Gilfoyle just <em> had  </em>to make a comment. Usually a sexist one about how sensitive he was. His eyelashes began to stick together and he prayed Gilfoyle had spaced out. What were the chances he was looking directly at him anyway? Deciding this was a safe bet, he opened his eyes, quickly rubbing them with both hands to stop any tears falling. </p><p>The thing is, Gilfoyle <em> had </em> noticed but this time it was different because he didn’t feel like being a dick. He actually felt an odd level of empathy and he didn’t like it one bit. </p><p>“Dinesh, you just had a whole-ass-fully-fledged-violent-fucking breakdown, can we not with the tears? Lie still or I can’t help you.” </p><p>Well.  </p><p>Gilfoyle sighed aggressively, knowing he’d blew it. This soft shit didn’t come naturally to him and although he’d never admit it, that thought alone pained him. Every romantic entanglement in his life had always ended because of this.  </p><p>Because of him. </p><p>Dinesh shot up off the couch, angrily grabbing the flannel off Gilfoyle as he passed him, throwing it down on the floor. He headed towards the doors. </p><p>“Dinesh! Just wait!” </p><p>The events of the day weighed on his shoulders too but he’d had a lot more practice at leaving it there. It would vanish eventually.  </p><p>As Dinesh turned around wincing, he knew this wasn’t an option for him. The tears had now made themselves known to his (very much still open) wound. </p><p>“Please...” His vision was bleary and his tone matched that. </p><p>“...I don’t want to hear it. It’s now more obvious to me than ever how much you don’t give a shit about anyone apart from yourself. Please. Just let me go.” He turned back to the doors, holding his cheek as he walked.  </p><p><em> A hand. </em> </p><p><em> A hand that was not his. </em> </p><p>Gilfoyle had taken hold of the arm that Dinesh was not using to turn him around. They were now mere inches apart once more.  </p><p>“Fuck Dinesh. You know I can’t do this.” </p><p>“Do what? Apologise? Hm... It’s fairly easy if you mean it but I know that’s hard for you.” </p><p>Ouch. </p><p>Gilfoyle knew he deserved it. It still felt like a punch in the stomach. </p><p>He was going to say something else but the words faded from his lips. Quick. Do something. His eyes glanced over to the bloody cut again. It was hard not to look at as it was so strikingly obvious in the bright, unnatural lighting of the rooftop. Maybe Gilfoyle was a little attracted it. It wasn’t a Dinesh thing, it was a scar kink or something, right? Whatever. </p><p>His hand. </p><p>Fuck. </p><p>His hand was moving upwards as if it were on autopilot and stopped as it got to Dinesh’s cheek. His thumb touched the wound. He wiped the tear away. Dinesh recoiled a little from the pain but remained there. </p><p>“I-I don’t know what to say.” Gilfoyle voice trembled under certain words. He didn’t know what this was but it was fine. He felt more than fine.  </p><p>Dinesh’s adrenaline was raising up again but this time it was the good kind. The kind that makes your stomach turn in on itself. The kind that makes your chest feel light. The kind that makes you feel present. He pressed his cheek further into Gilfoyle’s hand and cupped his hand around it. Gilfoyle’s eyes widened but he said nothing. </p><p>Maybe it was finally time. </p><p>It had been six long, long years. </p><p>He had nothing to lose now, right? </p><p><em> *Ping* </em> </p><p>The unexpected noise startled them both into pulling away as if Dinesh’s blood had turned into lava underneath their fingertips. Dinesh cleared his throat, clearly wanting to move on as soon as possible. He quickly buried his hand in his back pocket and pulled out his phone to discover the culprit. Fucking Richard. Of course. </p><p>“I think we should go. I think this may need a stitch or some shit.” He pointed to his cheek. </p><p>“Right.” Gilfoyle wasn’t making direct eye contact anymore. “Do...do you want me to come?” </p><p>“You really think I can handle being on my own right now?” Dinesh held back an uncomfortable laugh as he gestured towards the chaos he had just created. He decided he should probably tell at least Monica or Jared about what had happened. Well, not everything. But he knew the guilt would drive him insane otherwise. </p><p>“I’ll call an Uber. There’s no way I’m letting either of us drive.” </p><p>Dinesh smiled for the first time that day. It was more like a smile being disguised by a smirk but a smile all the same. Maybe leaving Pied Piper behind wouldn’t be so bad as long as he wouldn’t have to leave all of it. </p><p>“Why are you smiling like that?” Gilfoyle questioned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. </p><p>“No reason. Although I have lost a lot of blood tonight, maybe I’m just going delirious.” Dinesh shrugged suggestively, with the same smirk. </p><p>Gilfoyle groaned. </p><p>“Let’s just go.” </p><p>“Wait...your flannel. Don’t you want it?” </p><p>Gilfoyle had already made his way down several stairs. </p><p>“It’s covered in your blood.” He called upwards, not making the decision to slow down or stop. This wasn’t really an answer but Dinesh picked it up anyway. It wasn’t that dirty.  </p><p>This time he pressed it against his nose, not his cheek.  </p><p>It smelt mostly like tobacco. Dinesh didn’t like smoking or anything about it but the smell instantly hit home. He remembered all the times Gilfoyle had sat close to him, even when there was enough room not to. He remembered all the times Gilfoyle had smoked in the back yard because Dinesh had told him once that he didn’t like the smoke in the house. He remembered the time he had tried on one of Gilfoyle’s jacket’s as a drunken dare. </p><p>As he took the shirt away from his nose and exhaled, he looked around anxiously making sure he was definitely alone. He was. Gilfoyle was already on the parking lot and had begun shouting up to him but he was so far away it sounded like noise rather than a word. The Uber had arrived. </p><p>“I’m on my way!” Dinesh called back, not moving from where he was standing. </p><p>The blood flow had slowed down a lot but that didn’t stop him from holding the shirt back up to its original position. Nothing though could compare to the feeling of Gilfoyle’s rough thumb rubbing it softly. His skin ached for that feeling again. </p><p>The automatic lights switched off as he left the roof. Practically running down the stairs and into the parking lot, the weight of having to leave Pied Piper didn’t seem so heavy anymore. Waiting for him was the only thing that really mattered. The only thing he truly didn’t want to leave behind.  </p><p>It was here. </p><p><em> He </em>was here.</p>
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